


A Christmas Dilemma

by IceLite1011



Series: Countdown to 2016! [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: Boys Kissing, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Jealous Nanase Haruka, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5530955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceLite1011/pseuds/IceLite1011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>12/25/15: MakoHaru</p><p>Haru doesn't know what to give Makoto for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Christmas Dilemma

Haru was in a dilemma.

It was December 25th—Christmas Day—and he didn’t know what to give Makoto.

Last night had been spent with the Iwatobi/Samezuka crew, filled with food, laughter, and presents at Rin and Sousuke’s house. The whole Secret Santa thing had been Nagisa’s idea, and even though Haru wasn’t too happy about the thought of someone else giving Makoto something for Christmas, everyone seemed excited about it so he just went along. Haru had gotten Rei, so he gave him a book on healthy cooking (no one could imagine Nagisa making anything, so Rei cooked for the two of them) and a new case for his glasses. After accepting a quick hug and a “Thank you, Haruka-senpai!” from Rei, it was Sousuke’s turn.

“Who did you get, Sou-chan?” Nagisa prodded the bigger man’s arm teasingly, unfazed when shot a cold look. “Well,” Sousuke sighed, standing up and walking towards—no, it couldn’t be—

Makoto.

“Merry Christmas.” Sousuke said, holding out a gift to (of all people) Makoto.

“…Me? Oh, Sousuke, thank you!” Makoto’s innocent smile seemed to light up the room.

Sousuke’s present was a neon-green sports towel, a new pair of goggles, and a mug. Simple and practical, but Haru felt himself growing increasingly irritated at the thought of Makoto wiping his face with Sousuke’s towel, slipping on Sousuke’s goggles, and sipping his morning coffee from Sousuke’s mug.

So here he was, in bed, the other half unusually empty of Makoto’s warmth. Haru rolled over, glaring at the clock that read 8:25. Why was Makoto up so early? Haru had thought that Christmas Day meant cuddling until noon, but apparently he was wrong. Hands empty of a present, barefoot, and his slender frame drowning in one of Makoto’s sweatshirts, Haru padded downstairs. Just as he was about to turn left to the living room, where Makoto usually watched the morning news, his nose caught a familiar scent.

Mackerel?

Haru switched his course, instead going straight for the kitchen. He stopped abruptly in the doorway when he saw Makoto, clad in his sweats, a tank top, and…Haru’s apron? Haru’s gaze dropped down to the stove, where Makoto was, indeed, grilling mackerel.

“Makoto…?”

Surprised, Makoto whirled towards him, almost knocking the pan off of the stove. “Haru! Uh…g’morning? Y-you’re up early!”

“What are you doing…”

Haru watched as Makoto slowly turned tomato-red, scratching his scalp sheepishly and averting his eyes. “I…um, I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed…I mean, it’s Christmas, and I thought it would be nice…um, Haru?”

Makoto tilted his head as he walked up to Haru, who was looking at the floor silently. “What’s wrong?” Haru flicked his gaze up from under his lashes before blushing.

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t think of anything for you…” he mumbled in a tiny voice, beyond embarrassed.

A pause followed. Haru could feel Makoto looking at him, and he was growing nervous. Was Makoto upset? Exasperated? He finally gathered the courage to meet his eyes.

Emerald green eyes were staring into his, filled with mild amusement and love. “Oh, Haru,” Makoto smiled, the gentle kind that crinkled his eyes and only appeared around Haru. “Are you really worrying about getting me a present?”

Haru pouted, he couldn't help it. “Sousuke got you something…and, well, we’re…dating. So…” He felt a warm, calloused hand cup his cheek.

“You don’t have to get me anything, Haru.” Makoto’s tender voice enveloped him. “I’m perfectly happy with just being with you today. Honest.”

So unfair. Makoto made his worries feel meaningless; he made him feel stupid for thinking that he had to somehow “beat” Sousuke. Haru took two steps forward and grabbed the front of Makoto’s tank top, tugging him down.

“You’re so unfair,” he breathed, enjoying how Makoto’s face heated up as their eyes locked. Haru closed the distance between them, inhaling everything that was Makoto—the faint smell of citrus, detergent, and…smoke?

Haru hastily pulled away, glancing behind Makoto’s broad chest. Sure enough, blackish smoke was curling up from the pan on the stove.

“The mackerel!” Makoto yelped.


End file.
